


Beating Of An Empty Heart

by bzarcher



Series: The Wizard Triumphant [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Brainwashing, Emotional Hurt, F/F, Mental Abuse, No happy endings, Odette!AU, Odile!AU, Talon!Tracer, Talon!Widowmaker, assassinations, dark!fic, kidnappings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8685532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher
Summary: After two of her best friends in Overwatch disappear without a trace, Hana Song spends every waking moment trying to find some clue as to where they've gone, and what has become of them.The answers she finds are worse than she could have ever imagined.





	

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  
  
Hana Song had been the first to realize something was amiss, the night her friends had disappeared.  
  
She’d come home from the tattoo shop excited by the reactions to the design she’d created being inked into Odette’s skin, and seriously considering the tattoo artist’s offer to do an apprenticeship when she wasn’t out fighting. It would be nice to have a skill that didn’t connect back to D.Va – something that was just _Hana_. A path for her life that didn’t eventually end in D.Va pulling a trigger, the way so many other things had.  
  
She didn’t think much about the fact that Lena and Odette hadn’t come back that night. From the way those two dorks had been acting when they’d left Practical Magic, it wouldn’t have surprised her if they’d gone straight to a hotel.  
  
But they didn’t come back the following day.  
  
Or the next.  
  
Her text messages went unanswered, and when she went to Winston and 76 with her concerns, they eventually traced the missing women’s phones to the dumpster of a fancy restaurant near the Spanish border.  
  
For the better part of a year, D.Va volunteered for every mission, big or small, in hopes it might lead to some clues to where her friends had been taken.  
  
Winston, Ana, and 76 made a decision that no one was to leave the Watchpoint alone. 76 volunteered to be Hana’s regular backup, offering his quiet support when she needed it, and Helix rockets and pulse fire when she needed his support to be a lot louder.  
  
For all of Overwatch’s efforts in the most frustrating year of Hana’s life, they came up with nothing. It was if the missing women had simply fallen off the face of the Earth.  
  
Two months after Hana wept through a combined funeral service for both Lena and Odette, a distress call came in from what was supposed to be a milk run for Mei and Torbjörn to keep an eye on the heritage museum in Numbani, and Overwatch finally had answers about what had become of their missing friends.

* * *

Winston had summoned everyone to the Watchpoint’s briefing room first thing after breakfast, and when he arrived the scientist looked like he had aged ten years since the previous day.  
  
“What I’m going to show you is going to be difficult.” The gorilla’s deep voice had a disturbingly hollow flatness to it – he’d obviously practiced this before he assembled them, and it wasn’t good news. “But I need you to save your questions until I’ve finished.”  
  
Hana felt like an ice cold snake had slithered into her stomach as the lights went down.  
  
The silent footage Athena projected on the screen was obviously cut together from some of the traffic and security cameras around the museum, alternating between color and black and white depending on the angle.  
  
Mei was running flat out from something as she came into the frame, Snowball fluttering as the little bot tried to keep pace with her. Suddenly there was a bright flash of movement from the direction the climatologist had come from, and Hana felt her heart stop.

A woman in a dark colored tactical uniform appeared, a flash of light flaring from the device on her chest as she blinked closer to her target. Twin pistols kicked in her hands, and the weather drone exploded.  
  
The woman who looked like Tracer laughed as Mei turned and cried out in horror. A moment later a crimson wound appeared on the breast of the Chinese woman’s thick coat, and Mei crumpled to the ground before going perfectly, terribly still.

Hana doubled over as she fought the urge to throw up everything she’d just eaten.  
  
There were other gasps of dismay and recognition, and when Hana looked up the not-Tracer had been joined by a taller woman in a black combat suit, different than Widowmaker’s, but the tattoo on her exposed back – the “Rising Swan” design Hana had put so much work into – was as unmistakable as the sniper rifle she was carrying.  
  
Hana barely made it to the trash can at the back of the room before getting sick.  
  
She felt 76’s gloved hand on her shoulder, silently consoling her as she wiped her lips off with the back of her palm.  
  
When she turned to face him, Angela was standing beside the old soldier, wordlessly offering a cup of water so Hana could rinse out her mouth.  
  
After she’d spat the water into the can and turned back around, Hana’s eyes were drawn back to the screen just in time to watch the woman who had been one of her best friends in Overwatch – practically her older sister – attach a pulse bomb to Torbjörn’s chest and acrobatically flip away, her body blurring as she snapped back along her own timeline.

The silent explosion flared and the engineer flew backwards in obvious pain, his cybernetic arm spiraling away in the opposite direction.  
  
Not-Tracer (Hana couldn’t think of the woman on the screen as Lena. Lena would NEVER do this!) walked over to the wounded engineer and said something to him before putting one of her pistols to the Swede’s temple and pulling the trigger.

Not-Odette joined her in the frame, and they shared a disturbingly passionate kiss over the cooling corpses of their former teammates before she fired her grappling line, zipping them out of the camera’s view with Not-Tracer clinging to her waist.

Hana curled into 76’s chest so the others wouldn’t see her crying.  
  
“Athena retrieved that footage six hours ago.” Winston couldn’t cry, but his eyes were filled with grief, and his voice was shaking. “I made the decision to contact a hacker with the ability to penetrate Talon resources – she has verified the identities of the…assets…involved.”  
  
“Just say ‘Sombra’,” 76 growled through his mask, “and get on with it.”  
  
Winston huffed, shaking his head slightly. “Fine. I used a cutout contact to reach Sombra. I’d been reluctant to engage her services earlier because she may not be a member of Talon, but she’s always had her own agenda. In this case, however, she provided the following information without requesting any form of payment.”  
  
The display changed to show a headshot of Not-Tracer in blood red goggles and wearing a black and red uniform, a portion of the Talon insignia visible on her shoulder.

“Talon has spent the last eight months ‘reconditioning’ Lena Oxton into an agent they call Slipstream.” Hana felt like her heart was a pile of broken glass. Winston’s voice sounded about the same. “They appear to have redesigned her Chronal Accelerator but most of the ‘modifications’ performed on her were mental and emotional alterations, not physical.”  
  
76’s voice was a harsh growl. “They made her into another Widowmaker.”  
  
“Widowmaker was an artificially created personality – one who wasn’t really aware of having been Amélie Lacroix, even if she had access to a portion of her memories. I’m not sure if ‘Slipstream’ recalls being Lena or not, but from the footage we retrieved, she uses many of the same combat techniques and maneuvers that Tracer did, which suggests she might believe herself to be Lena Oxton.” Winston paused. “I’m genuinely not sure which scenario would be worse.”  
  
Turning towards the screen, Winston switched to another headshot – Not-Odette in a black combat suit with dark green accents, a new recon visor styled with a distinctly avian look compared to Widowmaker’s old arachnid theme perched on her forehead.  
  
“Apparently someone at Talon has a twisted sense of humor, because they’ve renamed their other new agent ‘Odile’. She appears to be using restyled versions of the original Widowmaker equipment. Gauss boosted sniper rifle with variable automatic fire modes, grappling gauntlet, and poison gas mines. Based on what we saw…I would say it’s fair to assume she will be just as deadly as her predecessor.”  
  
Hana shivered.  
  
Angela broke the silence. “Do you believe there is any chance to rescue them? To break through to them the way Lena was able to help Widowmaker?”  
  
Winston sighed. “Widowmaker’s weakness was the way Talon suppressed her emotions. It left openings Lena was able to use as she started to develop emotional responses beyond what Talon had originally allowed for. From the information Sombra provided…Talon corrected that mistake. It appears they’ve been manipulating and twisting their emotions rather than trying to eliminate them. Removing inhibitions rather than reinforcing them. Could we reach them? I honestly don’t know.”  
  
Hana straightened up, anger flashing in her eyes. “We have to TRY! We can’t just give up on them!”  
  
“I know,” Winston agreed, “and we will. But we also have to be honest about the possibility that the people we knew are dead, and there isn’t anyone left to save.”  
  
Hana couldn’t say anything else to that. Standing up, she turned on her heel and half marched, half ran from the room, barely registering Dad’s gruff ‘Let her go’ behind her.

At first Hana wanted to run into the vehicle bay, load her mech on an Orca and fly to Numbani to see if there were any clues she could find.

That was stupid. She knew it was stupid, and she nearly did it anyways.

She didn’t even know if ‘Slipstream’ and ‘Odile’ would still be in the city. She wouldn’t know where to start searching. But it suddenly occurred to her that she knew who would.

The others must have either stayed with Winston in the briefing room or were trying to give Hana some space, because she didn’t encounter anyone on the way back to her room.

Just as well. If they’d asked what she was doing, she might have told them, and she knew that wouldn’t end well.

Instead she locked the door to her room, logged into her gaming box, and loaded up a very private Starcraft server, waiting for another player to join the lobby.  


 

 **Sombra:** Hola, amiga.  

 **D.Va:** How long have you known?

 

 **Sombra:** Winston told you, huh?  

 

 **D.Va:** HOW LONG

 **Sombra:** A month.  

 **Sombra:** Gabi came to me after Talon sent them after him for “training”.  

 **Sombra:** They nearly killed him.  

 

 **Sombra:** I started digging as soon as I knew where to look.  

 

 **D.Va:** you didn’t tell me

 **Sombra:** Lo siento.  

 **Sombra:** But some of what I found…you’re better off not seeing them like that.  

 **Sombra:** Believe me.  

 

 **D.Va:** I’ve been looking for a YEAR. You knew that.  


**Sombra:** If I’d told you when I found out and let you run out to get them, Talon would have made them kill you.  

 **Sombra:** Or worse.  

 **Sombra:** Widow was weird, but she was my friend, and I liked what I could see of Odette.  

 **Sombra:** I was going to try sneaking in to try some of her food.  

 **Sombra:** But they’re not the same, Hana. Not any more.  

 

 **D.Va:** You don’t know that.

 

 **Sombra:** Widow never shot Gabi.  Even when he deliberately provoked her a few times.  

Odile blew out his kneecaps.  

 

 **Sombra:** Slipstream put enough bullets in his chest before Gabi got away that his vest looked like swiss cheese.  

 **Sombra:** They’re not the same.  

 **Sombra:** I’m sorry, princesa, but the people we knew aren’t home anymore.  

 

 **D.Va:** I can’t give up on them.

 **D.Va:** I have to try.  

 **D.Va:** Please.

 **Sombra:** …    

 **Sombra:** Get yourself dead and I will never forgive you, chica.   

 **D.Va:** just set up a meet. I’ll come alone.

 **D.Va:** Tell Lena I’ll be in King’s Row in 2 days.

 

 **Sombra:** I’ll send a message, but after that I’m done. I need to go dark for a while.   

 **Sombra:** After seeing how well those two are working out, Talon is starting to talk about doing more ‘recruiting.’  

 

 **D.Va:** I understand.

 **D.Va:** Thank you.

 **Sombra:** Don’t forget what I told you.   

 **Sombra:** Be careful.   

* * *

Hana stood on the rooftop of what used to be Lena’s apartment building. She could just make out the lights shining off the Mondatta memorial a few blocks away, or turn around to see the massive clock tower that still defined the London skyline.

She watched the hands on the giant clock face reach the top of the hour, and beneath the deep ringing chimes of the bells as they announced the stroke of midnight, there came the sound of air being displaced and feet striking the rooftop.

Hana took a deep breath, summoning up every scrap of D.Va she had inside of her before she spoke. “I’m unarmed.”

As she turned around, ‘Slipstream’ made a derisive snort, her voice heartbreakingly familiar. “That’s your bloody mistake, luv.”

The Talon agent’s hair was cut a little shorter, but still close enough to Lena’s hedgehog style. The black and red tactical gear was a harder, more militaristic look than Tracer’s usual outfits, and yes, she had pistols holstered at her waist, the redesigned accelerator on her chest casting ghostly blue reflections off their grips. Giving Hana’s bodysuit a once over, Slipstream’s eyes lingered on the empty light gun holster for a moment before she crossed her arms over her harness. “You wanted to talk? Fucking _talk_. I’ve got better people to be doing tonight. The only reason I’m even _here_ is that your name hasn’t come up on our priority target list. Yet.”

Hana’s mouth was suddenly bone dry, and it took her a moment to get her voice working. “I needed to see you. To see what Talon did to you.” She paused. “To try to get you to come home.”

“Hah. Your home. Not ours.” Slipstream shook her head, her voice dripping with contempt. “I suppose you’ll be telling me how much ‘the family’ misses them, too?”

Hana couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. “We do. We miss both of you, Lena.”

“Oh, sure! That’s why you all stopped _looking_ for her. Just like before!” The shorter woman’s eyes flashed with anger. “By the by – ‘Lena’ isn’t here, luv. She died, just like Tracer did. Try to keep up.”

“That’s _not true!_ ” Hana felt the tears burning in her eyes, blinking through them as she took a step towards where Slipstream stood. “I **never** stopped looking for you. Ever! I dragged Dad across half the world every time I thought there was a _chance!_ ”

 “Aww, he lets you call him Dad?” Slipstream’s voice was full of mocking nostalgia. “He used to let Tracer do that, you know? Her and Angie and little Fareeha too. ‘Strike-Commander Dad!’ Hero of Overwatch!” The cheerfulness evaporated in an instant as Slipstream blinked forward, rage flashing in her eyes as her voice rose. “Do you know? ‘Dad’ left Cap to die. He left Gabriel to die. He left your precious _Lena_ stuck in **_HELL_** , and _didn’t blink a fucking eye!_ ”

Hana took an involuntary step backwards in the face of Slipstream’s furious scream. “He…it wasn’t like that!”

“What would _you_ know, bunny-bitch?” Slipstream stalked forward, so close Hana felt like she could feel the anger radiating off of her like it was a physical force. “ _You_ were playing with lego blocks when Jackie Boy snuck off in the middle of the night and left _everyone he claimed to care about_ holding the bag. ‘Dad’ doesn’t give two shits about anyone who isn’t named Jack Morrison, and the _minute_ you stop being useful to him, he’ll leave you behind too.”

“But I’m _not_ leaving you,” Hana pleaded, her voice hushed with pain, “please. I’m not. I never did.”

“You’re trying to save someone who’s already dead, and I – _we_ –  don’t need saving by the likes of _you_ ,” Slipstream spat, “trying to make yourself feel better because you couldn’t save her or _anyone else_ when it mattered.”

Hana crumpled, falling to her knees from the emotional blow. For a long moment Slipstream watched her, a hand flexing over the grip of one of her pistols, then the Talon agent turned a sharp about face and walked to the edge of the rooftop before looking back over her shoulder. “You want to be able to say you tried? Fine. You _tried._ Maybe it’ll help you sleep at night. But we’re done, now, understand? I don’t care if Talon calls you a priority target or not, if we see you or that stupid pink clanker of yours again, you’re dead. You want to save someone, Hana Song? Get the fuck out of Overwatch and save _yourself._ ”

Slipstream leapt off the edge of the building, and she was gone. Hana struggled to her feet and ran to the edge of the rooftop, trying to see where the woman who had once been Lena had gone, but there was nothing – and a moment later she felt the passage of a bullet just past her ear before it crunched into the rooftop, followed by the sound of a gunshot.

_Last warning, huh? Fine. Game on._

D.Va looked up at the London sky for a long moment before she stood and headed for the door that would lead her back down into the building.

* * *

When Hana came back to Gibraltar, 76 and Winston were waiting for her. Neither of them said a word as she left the puddle jumper she’d ‘borrowed’ from the hangar to fly to London. She just shook her head, and watched Winston close his eyes with a pained sigh.

“Next time,” 76 murmured softly as she passed him, “take your gun.”

Hana shook her head. “There won’t be a next time. They both made that perfectly clear.” Hana walked over to her Mech, placing a hand on the armored cockpit, and when she spoke, it was with D.Va’s iron resolve. “If I see them again, I’m shooting to kill. They’re not going to do anything less.”

Hana knew in her heart that it wasn’t supposed to be like this. But that didn’t change the fact that it was.

 


End file.
